


How to end your career over a missing body

by neolith



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Gen, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 15:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17449865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neolith/pseuds/neolith
Summary: Karim Jafari is a forensic specialist at the Alliance MIA Accounting Agency the day when the SSV Normandy SR-1 is destroyed in the Omega Nebula. He gets tasked with the most daunting assignment of his career.





	How to end your career over a missing body

**Author's Note:**

> This is me playing around with the idea that someone at Alliance must've been tasked with retrieving Shepard's body - and must have failed. Thank you [bioticfox](http://bioticfox.tumblr.com/) for making the art that gave me the idea!
> 
> Also, this story isn't even spell-checked yet, so sorry if it is a bit messy for now!

  
  
Captain Pathirana accidentally bumped into the new boy from the reception, causing him to spill coffee all over his neatly pressed uniform. The spill left a pear-shaped stain right over the left pectoral. The boy seemed rather flustered with the whole spectacle, flummoxed into silence as Captain Pathirana apologized in a manner they normally wouldn’t see anyone of her rank apologize. In the forefront of this stood Sergeant Smith’s desk, void of the person herself as she was home with a nasty stomach flu that day. It was a Tuesday. All these were insignificant details and Karim would never have committed them to memory if it weren’t for what happened next.

The lull of the day was broken as an entire ensemble of Alliance Marine officers stormed through the doors. While officers of the marines visiting the agency wasn’t a rare occurrence, the sheer number was. On top of that, Karim noted multiple N7 decorations amongst the men and women spilling into the office space. Karim’s closest contact with N7 graduates before this had been identifying bodies of a couple of trainees who hadn’t survived their grade N6 assignment.

“Team 2 to operations,” a tall man amongst the officers ordered. Karim thought he looked vaguely familiar, dark skin and an air that inspired confidence. His voice was strangely warm and pleasant, a stark contrast to his impressive decorations and the underlying tone that indicated a grim sort of urgency. Karim scrambled to his feet in response, eyes darting in panic to Smith’s empty desk.

“Sir?” he said, voice a bit shaky. He struggled not to cringe when all heads turned on him, as if daring him to keep speaking. “Are you sure about team 2? Our team leader is on sick leave.”

“You must be forensic anthropologist Jafari,” the tall man spoke, reaching out a hand in greeting. “Captain Andersson. Let’s get to operations. I think the briefing will answer some of your questions.”

 

 

Briefings usually happened in operations, but the security detail guarding the door was new. So were the fingerprint locked datapads that they wouldn’t even get to keep. _Memorize it all while you can_ , they were told, but the moment Karim unlocked the screen of his pad his brain went blank.

The body they were designated to recover was Commander Shepard’s.

Karim couldn’t help it. Before reading, he looked up at the rest of the room as if to confirm that they were all seeing what he was seeing. He met the gaze of his forensics colleague Ellaine and his disbelief was mirrored in her eyes. Anderson was looking down into the table, lips pulled into a thin line. Karim suddenly realized why Anderson looked so familiar. When Commander Shepard was made the first human Spectre, Anderson had been present. Karim deemed it safe to say that for the captain, this retrieval was at least partially personal.

Returning focus to the datapad, it dawned to Karim just what kind of challenge they were up against. Because of the Commander’s high profile, not just amongst humans but in the galaxy at large, there was much interest in the body. There were a lot of factions with incentive to find the it first, and even if Alliance had managed to keep a lid on the Normandy SR1’s demise so far, they were working against the clock and time was ticking exponentially faster. To add to the difficulties, initial reports suggested the commander’s body had either been blown into smithereens or been spaced. If the body had been caught in combat explosions, they might have to rely on luck to even find bits intact enough to grab a DNA sample and if spaced… well, without the tracker in the armour working, that left them a lot of space to search. Even if data from surrounding nodes of gravity could give indications of where a floating body would get pulled, any temporary force (such as explosions from battle) in the area would knock the body onto a new course. Even if they managed to retrieve the Normandy’s black box still intact, Karim doubted they’d get enough data to make any accurate calculations. They could just as well trawl the entire system.

This would be the most important case of Karim’s career, and already he was set up for failure. He could only hope that Andersson’s presence would cushion him and his colleagues against some of the fallout.

“Because of the sensitivity of the matter, this mission will be a collaboration between MIA Accounting Agency and Intelligence Services,” Captain Anderson explained, and several of the men and women with the N7 decorations stood a little straighter. Team 2 wouldn’t need their team leader, it soon turned out, because they wouldn’t work in the usual team structure. A retrieval team would be sent as per the usual routine, but that team was merely a decoy, while team 2 would splinter into cells with the intelligence officers. Karim was paired with a woman of slight build, but with eyes that commanded you don’t underestimate based on her size. Karim found himself quickly looking away, intimidated. The name he was given for her, Mary Tate, sounded fake, unfit for her austerity, but Karim accepted it along with her hand in a brief greeting.

Further briefing would occur along the way, when and if their partners from intelligence deemed it necessary, Anderson concluded before datapads were collected and purged. Without further ado, they were dismissed. Exiting operations, they found bags with necessities had already been packed for them and that they had minutes to get ready for departure. The surreal walk towards the docks was Karim’s last view ever of the Accounting Agency.

 

 

The mission started out in the worst manner possible. They didn’t even reach the Amada system before facing armed conflict, mercenaries firing at them instantly upon sight, shortly after they’d entered the Omega Nebula. Karim was glad at this moment, to be under Captain Anderson’s command rather than Smith’s. While their team leader had plenty of training and experience to take them safely through most scuffles in their tasks, it was clear that Anderson’s place had long been at the centre of events. He calmly directed them to safety, constantly adapting their plan without losing sight of the goal.

Despite all the clever evasion, the Captain was ultimately forced to abort their approach to Amada as they found themselves heading straight into the same sort of Collector ambush that struck down the Normandy. Karim understood then that that was a central part of being N7 – to not only fight ten times harder than the rest, but to also stay alive to fight another day. It made him wonder how that training had somehow failed Commander Shepard. From the stories, the man had appeared invincible, even in his moments of defeat. He’d even survived Akuze. Karim’s current position had become open after his predecessor died on the first attempted retrieval missions to that specific hell hole. While the thresher maws were now gone from the colony, so were still many of the bodies.

Captain Anderson ordered the search cells to split up earlier than originally planned, as a consequence of failing to get close to the crash site. None of the intelligence agents showed surprise, and Karim thought them robot-like in that moment, too unphased by the events to not trigger a sense of uncanny valley. And that thing about time ticking away exponentially? The effects were becoming very tangible now. With all the activity in the nebula, there was potential risk that someone else had gotten to the body first, and if not, it was also possible that a spaced body and other debris could’ve been blasted into the vast space between systems. Needless to say, the search perimeters covered an area of massive volume, and due to the sensitivity of the mission, discretion was as important as speed. They couldn’t just freely scan the area – they had to search it with a brush, while essentially dodging search lights. Karim found his thoughts straying off the task, making back-up plans for the inevitable termination of his current employment. Good thing Agent Tate was the one steering their small craft, as she didn’t seem to share his inability to compartmentalize.

The first indication of exactly what jokers the agent had up her sleeve was when she re-charted their course, some ten minutes after the cells had all deployed from the cruiser in either shuttles or interceptors. While confused, Karim did not dare question as the rest of the Alliance ships blipped out of range on their radar. Agent Tate had a clear goal in sight but had no reason yet to share. When Omega came into view, Karim started to wonder exactly what role he was expected to play as a forensic on this case. Usually his primary task was to identify the body, and if time and safety allowed determine the specific cause of death already on location. While he could still work on identifying a body encountered this far from the location of the attack, if the body had made it this far, it would have to be because of corpse theft. This seemed more and more heavily within the realms an intelligence.

 

 

Once docked, Agent Tate led Karim into what looked like a gruesome crime scene, in a back alley in Omega’s underbelly. Considering the sight wasn’t in any manner or form secured, Karim could only assume it had been disturbed. There were so many parts to cover, he was at complete loss of where to start. He also lacked the context to help him navigate what was relevant or not.

As he hoisted his tool bag off his shoulder, Tate went straight up to a pile of trash, giving it a solid kick. Out from the pieces of plastic and food waste rolled a box. When Tate activated her omni-tool, the box reacted, an unlocking sequence lighting up before the box opened with an exhale of compressed air. Karim didn’t get a glimpse of what was inside, Tate blocking his view with her body, and he couldn’t help but feel it was intentional.

“How convincingly could you fake a trail?” Tate asked, slotting something into her omni-tool while her back was still turned. In retrospect, this was the moment where Karim should’ve listened to all the red flags that flashed in his mind. Unfortunately he was too good at following orders, and thus he’d engaged in a discussion on what he could accomplish with his expertise, idiotically buying Tate’s explanation that leaving decoys was part of the mission. While he couldn’t fake a trail, he could sabotage the site in a way that to himself would look like someone was hiding something. Tate allowed him half an hour to accomplish this, before she dragged them off to Illium.

 

 

For the next couple of days, Karim was hauled across the Terminus system like an obnoxious piece of luggage, that fortunately had legs. Tate was tight lipped about whatever plan she was working them through, and she handled all communications with Captain Anderson herself, always reporting _no progress_. At first Karim thought it a testament of Intelligence efficiency that they never encountered any of the other cells, but on day two suspicion started eating at him. Not being allowed in on what exactly they were doing, he was left with little else to do but to question every step.

As they tiptoed into day three, Tate made her first serious misstep. They’d taken turns resting, and Tate must have thought Karim still asleep as she was tapping into encrypted communications channels. Karim didn’t realize the significance of the bits he glimpsed right away, mind too foggy with sleep still to understand what it meant that the other cells were reporting that they were still primarily searching Omega for Commander Shepard’s body.

Sitting up, the bunk creaked, and Tate immediately cut the feed, sending Karim a quick glare before packing up.

“Finally, you are awake,” she spoke, even though Karim had woken a full hour before schedule. “I’ve got some coordinates we ought to check out.”

What the exact coordinates were seemed illusive, but a few hours later Tate received an alert that had her instantly rerouting. Four relay jumps later and they approached Noveria.

 

 

Agent Tate was as mentioned small in body, but large in presence. As they were docking, and their craft powering down, the woman stilled almost entirely – reminiscent of a prey getting ready to strike. Her hand sort of stopped over the console, and Karim found his breath momentarily stopped along with it. He only remembered to breath when his lungs began to ache in protest.

The lights in the docking bay lit up, to welcome them out of their craft, while the interior light in the ship dimmed in reaction to going into park. As a result, Tate’s face disappeared in shadows, leaving only the stark line of her profile, lit from the other side by the exterior lights. Karim couldn’t read her face, but there was some quality to the whole situation that allowed the red flags that had gently swayed in the background to jump up and centre.

“Stay,” Tate instructed, and left the vehicle the moment she was able to. Once the door swished shut behind her, the vacuum seal hissing briefly, Karim was left alone and in complete silence. With the chance presenting itself on a golden platter, his mind was racing a mile a minute trying to make a choice. When Tate’s figure disappeared out of sight, into the station ahead, it was as though Karim’s body decided for him, reaching for the console.

Immediately the craft informed him the com was locked and coded to obey Tate alone. Unfortunately for his partner, she’d underestimated what Karim could do with his forensics skills. Not only could he gather fingerprints– do a degree he could also replicate them. It took a few minutes, and a few things appropriated out of the ship’s first aid kit, but soon he was in and immediately sent a request to talk to Captain Anderson.

While waiting for the man to answer, Karim rifled trough what files he could access without needing to surpass further locks. A picture of an Asari popped up, riddled with notes on potential connections that held little meaning to Karim. The alien was beautiful though, perfectly blue skin and in white gear. She had a small nose, and facial markings that looked sort of penned on, as if to resemble human eyebrows. She wasn’t facing the camera, and Karim got the impression she didn’t know she was being photographed.

The projection collapsed as the call connected, a live feed hologram of Captain Anderson taking her place. His face was concerned, grim, an he demanded answers. Apparently, Tate had stopped checking in nineteen hours ago, and disconnected their tracker. Up until Karim’s call, Anderson had assumed the cell missing, their vehicle terminated.

The call was interrupted when noise of battle breached the docks. Before Anderson could order him to stay put, Karim got up to investigate. The hiss of the doors swallowed half of Anderson’s request for their location, and thus Karim ran out into the hangar without answering.

While trained to carry arms, Karim wasn’t really trained to actively engage in combat. He also usually relied on someone else to assess the immediate dangers of a situation, and clearly his own skills were lacking. Approaching the noise head, he caught sight of a badly damaged ship and ran straight for it, without even trying to take cover on the way. It should have been an obviously bad idea but working on instinct he didn’t stop and think until it was too late.

A par of hands grabbed him from behind, and he was pulled up against a hard chest. The person’s armour dug like a mound into his spine, the chest piece very gently curved. The shape felt more defined than it was, against the flat of his back, and in the periphery of his vision he caught side of a blue glow. The biotic shine cast light into the shadows ahead, illuminating Tate with her heavy pistol drawn he second before she fired. Pain pulsed through Karim’s gut, ripping his breath out his chest with a wet gasp. A shockwave ripped past him, casting Tate across the hangar like a ragdoll, before all went silent.

Karim groaned in pain, the sound coming off as surprisingly loud as it echoed out into the large space. An alien hand wrapped around his, pressing it into his wound, before he was helped to the ground. A very blue face appeared in front of his, thin brow markings raised high in concern.

“I didn’t think she would shoot you,” the Asari said – _the Asari_ from the photograph. Her voice sounded kind, genuinely concerned even as she was leaving Karim on the ground. He couldn’t stop staring at her, as though she wasn’t there for real, instead mere a projected animation of the photo. But then she touched him again, as if to remind him that she was real, and something cold rushed into his blood stream. As he glanced down, the Asari placed an empty medi-gel dispenser on the ground. He would still need to be hospitalized to get there, but the dose should be enough to get him there.

Then the Asari stepped back, reaching out with her biotics to lift a large and seemingly heavy box. It was just large enough to fit a human body. Karim still doesn’t know what made him say it, but it seemed at the time to his pain-riddled mind to be the only logical conclusion.

“You found Commander Shepard’s remains.”

The Asari didn’t deny it, looked sad even, as she silently sidestepped him with the casket, moving towards his and Tate’s ship and wasn’t just that the nail in the metaphorical coffin? Not only was the object of his search slipping under his very nose, but his cell inadvertently also aided in the thief’s escape. Karim tried to argue that this one was on Tate, but he was the one who had hacked past her locks and then left the vehicle wide open for the taking. At least the call with Anderson would help assert his innocence in whatever deceit Tate had pulled on them all. Later they would learn that she had received massive bribes from the Shadow Broker, but for now all Karim knew that she’d shot him and it hurt too much to even move.

As the Asari walked past him, he tried to plead for the case he was working. Not because he thought he could talk her around, but he could activate his omni-tool and record, maybe even connect the feed to Anderson through the ship, if only the signal was strong enough.

“Think of his relatives,” he said, quoting the sort of speeches they were given when introduced into the MIA Accounting Agency, back when they were still fresh out of the academy. “Don’t they deserve closure?”

The Asari stopped at this, and no longer did she look soft.

“Did you know the Commander?” she asked, no, she _challenged_. Karim stayed silent, assuming the Asari unlike himself had somehow known Shepard, but beyond that having no idea where this was going. He only briefly glanced down to confirm the recording had started, but that no signal was going out.

“Let me put it like this,” the Asari said, tone still hard. “You don’t even know what kind of danger we are all up against, and Shepard was our one hope against it. If we do nothing, then Saren’s attack on the Citadel will seem like just a slap on the hand?”

“You can either keep doing whatever it is you think your job here is,” the Asari continued, and here she stepped back into Karim’s personal space, previously gentle hands wrapping hard around the arm that held his omni-tool. “Or you can let me go unmentioned, to give us all a fighting chance. If you let me have the body, I can take him to people who might just be able to revive him. Think of _your_ relatives! If Shepard is left dead, we will _all_ die.”

There was something unhinged in the Asari’s eyes, and whether Karim believed her or not, she certainly was convinced of this illusive threat herself. Karim _did_ think of his relatives then. Not because he believed her, but because he believed she was as ready as Tate had been to kill him if he chose to get in the way. He stopped the recording and deleted it while she could see him do it.

“Go,” he said, and she went. If the Alliance wouldn’t fire him for this breach, he would terminate his contract on his own. He'd gotten into forensics to study the dead and return the remains to the living - not to nearly join the dead himself. He groaned in pain and tried to get an emergency signal through to any ally in the area as the Asari took off with both his target and ship. 

 


End file.
